YOZO : You Only Zing Once
by Passive Pegasus
Summary: ... Unless you have more than one heart. When the Doctor crash lands in a hotel for monsters, he finds the TARDIS unresponsive, rendering him trapped in Transylvania. He's clueless as to how this could have happened. Then he meets a monster unlike any other, one who makes his heart zing. And he must decide to leave... or to stay. -Takes place just after The Snowmen & before H.T.
1. Crash Landing

The TARDIS was smoking, her control panels glaringly bright and sizzling. All around, her lights were flickering, failing... dying? It was as if she was sending a distress signal, but the only person who would ever see it was lost. The Doctor, in his mangled frustration, raced around the center of the room, frantically pressing buttons and flipping levers which, to the outsider, would have appeared to do nothing.

And to be perfectly honest, it had no effect. The Doctor did all he could think to do, but it was to no avail. No matter what drastic measures he took, nothing changed the dire status of the TARDIS; in fact, it seemed to make matters worse.

The TARDIS jerked to the left—or was it the right?—sending the Doctor soaring through the air and into the nearest wall. Then everything stopped. Every light dimmed, and as the Doctor rose, the TARDIS groaned one last time and became still.

Without any hesitation he made a mad rush for the controls, finding them too hot to handle. The TARDIS had settled into a state of hibernation. There was no reason for it; no trauma or notable interference had enacted this change in her. He had been on his way to visit Argolis long before the war for a rendezvous with an unnamed contact. He still had the note in his pocket.

"Meet me before the 20 minutes on the highest peak, Doctor. Now, before it's too late."

Naturally his curiosity got the best of him. But now he was stranded in God-knew-where, and there was only one way to fix that.

Straightening his favorite bow tie, the Doctor made for the exit. One hand in his pocket, fingering his screwdriver, he pushed open the door.

A crowd had gathered, some daring to touch the boiling-hot side of the strange object. When the door opened, they all cowed back.

With a lick of his lips, the Doctor offered a half-smile. "Ah, hello there. Would anyone be kind enough to tell me... where I am?"

For a moment, all was silent. Some blinked. Others paled. Then someone broke the silence.

"_Human_!" And upon hearing this, the crowd flew into a frenzy, screaming and running about. Some flew through the walls, others into them. Some fainted on the spot.

And the Doctor looked on at the mismatched creatures in wonder, before attempting to get their attention. They were mistaken, after all.

He wasn't a human. He didn't know _what_ they were. And that was enough for him.


	2. Alien, Born and Raised

Finally he grew weary of his futile attempts. With a wave of his screwdriver, he extinguished all the lights in the room, earning even more panic. Something furry rammed into his shoulder, knocking him back a step.

"Would you all be _quiet_?" he shouted above the roar, his voice far louder than the combined decibels of every other creature. They hushed immediately. "Now I'm going to bring the lights back, but I need you all to _stay calm_." No one protested.

The sonic screwdriver hummed a bit, igniting the candles that hung in the open room. Hundreds of eyes stared at the Doctor in utter terror.

"Before I get to the bottom of your delirium," he began, stepping forth into the crowd which parted like the Red Sea, "I must make something clear. I'm not human."

From the back of the crowd, a tall, caped form emerged, slanted eyes narrowed to mere slits. "You look like a human. You act like a human." His nostrils flared. "You smell like a human."

Lifting a sleeve to his nose, the Doctor cringed. "Ah, I've been spending too much time with them, I suppose. Certainly takes away from my... _natural mus_k, eh?"

"What proof have you that you aren't? Why shouldn't we kill you?" The form bared his fangs, his eyes glinting red. "How can we know you are not human?"

"Well, for starters, I have two hearts." Stiffening, the dark form didn't blink. "Go on. You can hear it, can't you?" He pursed his lips as he scrutinized the hulk of a man. "I'd say you're a Saturnyian of the male gender, but I've never encountered one of your species with such a stature."

With a roll of his eyes, the tall man sighed. "I do not understand what 'lingo' you are using. I am a vampire." He flared his cape, using it to hide the lower half of his face and most of his body. "I am _Dracula_. Surely you have heard of me."

The Doctor blinked. And he blinked again. With a scoff, he waved off this alleged Dracula's claim. "Pish posh. _You_ can't be Dracula. He's fictional."

"_Enough_!" Dracula shouted, staring down at the Doctor. "You have two pulses, so what? Humans have many defects, like multiple organs, or tumors, or appendixes, or the sense of smell, or—"

"There's also the matter of my mode of transport, seeing as it's alien technology," the Doctor interrupted.

A great green fellow with stitches all over peeked around Dracula. "Isn't that what all teenage humans drive these days? I could have sworn I saw a bumper sticker or something."

"Frankenstein, please," Dracula sighed with a wave of his hand. "Allow me to take a look."

The Doctor threw open the door, gesturing grandly toward the inside. When he met the eyes of a wolf woman, she swooned into an equally hairy man who growled fiercely. The Time Lord needed to be a bit more considerate.

Dracula emerged a few moments later, moments that had dragged on endlessly for the folks outside. "It seems this box is" —the Doctor bounced on his toes in excitement— "a portal of sorts." The Doctor fell back on his heels, severely disappointed. "This creature is not human."

"No, sir! I'm an alien," he said with a grin. "And it's not a portal; it's—"

Holding up a hand, Dracula stopped him mid-sentence. Every other creature in the room had continued about their business with a collective sigh of relief, so only the vampire and the alien remained in the center. "Since you are not human, you pose no threat. However, you must admit your appearance is eerily comparable to them." He shuddered.

"I suppose so." Closing the TARDIS's door, the Doctor leaned upon a blue side. "So why are humans so terrifying to... whatever you all are?"

A shadow crossed Dracula's face. "We are monsters. Humans hate us. They bring torches and pitchforks to our doors. I built this place to offer a sanctuary for the discriminated creatures, the hated monsters of this planet."

"Aw, humans aren't that bad," the Doctor dismissed. "Sure, they're dim compared to the bright minds in the universe, but as far as sapiens go, they're probably the third... fifth most-intelligent ones in existence."

"Even so, they are murderous, and if we wish our young to be safe, we must protect them."

"_Murderous_?" the Doctor asked, furrowing his brow. "Are we talking about the same humans?" He began speaking to himself in a low tone. "Did I slip through another time crack? I thought I'd sealed them up. Well... who knows what damage Jack and River and the angels and—"

Dracula held up a hand. "Would you _stop it_! Whatever it is you continue to babble about is of no importance—"

"I beg to differ!"

"—and I still have no knowledge of your species or your name."

Running a hand through his hair, the Doctor exhaled through his teeth, emitting an unpleasant whistling sound. "Ah, names aren't really important, are they?" Judging by the way the vampire's eyes flashed once before narrowing to a deadly degree, the Doctor figured not. "You can call me 'The Doctor.'"

"So you are of the medical field?" Dracula suddenly lit up. Though the Doctor opened his mouth to offer an explanation, all that occurred was a series of awkward lip movements that looked like spasms. "Perhaps you may aid us here."

"Where is 'here' exactly?"

With a half-grin that hid his fangs, Dracula said, "Welcome to Hotel Transylvania."

The Doctor deflated, disappointed. "I was hoping for something a bit more original."

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing!" the Doctor said, quickly recovering. "It's a wonderful name, truly marvelous. Really captures the essence of your establishment in a simple way, yet it screams 'Modern Gothic Revelations.'"

Wrinkling his nose, Dracula said, "Right," and nothing more on the subject. "Anyway... Since you are a doctor—"

"_The_ Doctor."

"—I assume you may be able to help some of our ailed patrons. The only monster here with a medical degree is the sack of bones over there," he said, gesturing to a skeleton who was waving his bony hands spastically to illustrate his story. The skeleton turned his face sharply upon the mention of bones. "Ooh, no offense, Mr. Bones!"

He held up a hand. "None taken, Drac."

Returning to face the Doctor, Dracula seemed to soften. "While I do not trust you—"

"Wonderful way to open a statement," the Doctor said stiffly.

"—I believe you may be the only one who can help us at this point. See, we have a monster who has been here for two months, completely bedridden. The problem is... Well, I shall take you to see her."

Twirling his screwdriver, the Doctor smiled. "Whenever you are, _Drac_."

"Do not call me that."


End file.
